


The Force Rises

by dracox_serdriel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Dreams, Bad connections, Canon Compliant, Centering, F/M, Flashbacks, Force Bond, Force Healing, Illness, Injury, Jedi, Lightsabers, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rebellion, Resistance, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The First Order, The Power of Memory, the knights of ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: Rey continues to grow into her powers, carving her own path with the Force, while the Resistance rebuilds and regroups, gearing up for their next battle with the First Order.Set afterStar Wars: The Last Jedi. Spoilers for all Star Wars movies throughThe Last Jedi.





	1. The Island Fortress

_When did it start?_

Rey paced the length room, overwhelmed by its size. She had requested private quarters expecting a bunk, a trunk, and a door. She hadn't dreamed of an actual bed, let alone a wide-open space and meditation platform.

_It must've been right away._

A switch caught her attention. The Resistance rarely had modern comforts, so she initially ignored the anachronism. But now that she saw it, it was completely out of place, a mar to the otherwise perfectly crafted walls. 

_It must have happened all at once._

She inhaled slowly, concentrating on the fixture that stuck out like a sore thumb. It was down, and she needed it up. She reached out with the Force and applied the faintest touch of it, unsure of its make and resistance.

_It started on the island._

She gradually increased the pressure, knowing that the tiniest flick could mean the difference between turning the switch on and blowing a hole in the wall. 

_On the island, at night._

There was a faint _click_ that confirmed her task's completion. She redirected the remainder of the energy, imagining it running up the smooth walls, like a waterfall rising into the sky as she exhaled the last of her breath.

The clatter along the walls jolted her from her focus, and the energy she had been directing scattered, bursting some of the interior emergency bulbs. Normally, she would've chastised herself for losing control, but the sight before her eclipsed everything else in her mind.

An enormous floor-to-ceiling window opened, the shade seamlessly integrated into the far wall, revealing a spread of amber, white, and green, falling into a perfect reflection of itself with brown and red rising on the other side.

This base had been built in the mountains a very long time ago. According to Finn, the water between each mountain served as a natural, defensive barrier. A moat, he'd called it. 

It was astonishing. On Jakku, there hadn't been enough water for so much as a pond, and even if there had been, it would've evaporated in a matter of hours. She had imagined water as a shield - heard stories of planets that were naught but ocean with flecks of land - but she never envisioned anything like _this_. To her, water had been an untraversable blackness akin to space.

_Which no one dare hope to pass._

Rey swallowed hard. She stood in a magnificent room in front of unimaginable beauty, but it still wasn't enough to quell her mind.

_When did it start? Was it the first night?_

On mission, she always had one reason or another to avoid her thoughts, but today she had no orders, no objectives, no plan. She had a sneaking suspicion General Organa arranged it all. She had been the one, after all, who had noticed the fact that Rey hadn't taken a moment for herself since they escaped Crait over four months ago.

It was entirely true, but there was a reason.

_No, too angry at first. It must've started later._

Ever since that day... whenever things went still, a single, unrelenting question rose within her.

_When did it start?_

She sucked in a breath. If Rey was being honest with herself, she would've known that there was no outrunning it.

_When did it start?_

And, apparently, there was no ignoring it, either.

 _Not right away_ , she thought. _I was too angry. I hated them for leaving behind, but I hated Unkar Plutt even more._

Rey remembered how _good_ it felt to hate Unkar Plutt, to blame him for her pain and misery. For a long time, it felt like the only good feeling she had, so she indulged it, invested her rage, focusing it entirely on him. It was easy, especially in the beginning when he'd lock her inside when she wasn't working with nothing but odd electronics and spare parts for company. On bad days, she'd wreck the entire lot, scattering them across the floor, even though she knew she'd be the one cleaning it up and punished to boot.

Eventually, after one too many bad day temper tantrums, Unkar Plutt told her to find somewhere else to sleep. He also told her he had a particularly nasty penalty in store if she was so much as a fraction late the next morning.

The first night on her own was... horrid wasn't enough to describe it, not _nearly_ enough. She went to this abandoned hut that she passed every day; it was rundown but withstood the wind and kept warm through the night. So she ate her meager portions and curled up under her jacket and spare tunic, falling asleep immediately. But it didn't last. She woke up to find two boys not much older than herself - named Kip and Rawn, she learned later - trying to steal her pack.

She didn't know how to defend herself. Not properly. Not yet. Especially not half-asleep and unprepared. All she could do was grab what she could and run for it. She lost her best canister and her spare tunic, and her only jacket was badly torn during a frantic tug-o-war.

She spent hours wandering in the dark, unwilling to use her torch for fear it would attract attention. Anybody who saw her might try to take what little she had left. She tried to rest, but nowhere felt safe. Every time she tried to close her eyes, she'd hear someone or something move nearby, and she'd jolt awake. She couldn't fall asleep, so she didn't sleep at all.

The next night, she climbed the highest perch she could find, but it didn't matter. She was weary to the bone, desperate to sleep, but she couldn't. She was alone, and falling asleep meant she'd be defenseless.

_"You imagine an ocean. I can see it - I see the island..."_

Rey's stomach clenched. It was bad enough reliving it, but to hear him speak of something that she had never told another living soul... it shook her.

Because she _did_ imagine an ocean. In her mind, it looked like the blackness between stars, stretching out in every direction, and she was alone on a tiny island, so far no one could reach her.

That was the last thought she had before falling asleep every night. Even now. The picture in her head changed, but the image was always the same, as was the notion that she was safe because she was alone.

_When did it start?_

Not the first night. She had been too afraid. But the night after... yes, the night after. She had a clear view into the night sky, and she wondered where her parents were. How far had they gotten? How long had it been since they left? How long would it be until they came back?

That's when it started. She had looked up into a sky full of stars and wondered when her parents would return. She knew they had abandoned her - worse, they'd sold her - but she had blamed Unkar Plutt for holding her captive for so long that the idea of her parents felt... warm, safe, freeing. So when she wondered about when her parents would return, it was with a childlike curiosity, and that was enough to make her believe it was possible.

Rey didn't forget the truth. Not right away. It took years of her dreaming about their return and imagining their reunion to finally overshadow that dreadful pit in her stomach that formed when she watched her parents walk away without looking back. But that night... that night was when it started.

Rey put the palms of her hands against the floor to steady herself. At some point during her recollection, she had fallen to her knees. She hadn't realized the toll it had taken on her until now. Tears spilled down her face, and she didn't fight them.

It _hurt_. It hurt to admit that her parents had sold her and left her behind. It hurt to remember lying to herself so frequently that those lies of comfort became truth... _her_ truth. That was what kept her going, but it was also what kept her stranded on Jakku.

Rey had made an imaginary island of solitude to protect herself, and at some point, she began to think it was real. Had it not been for BB-8, she might never have left Jakku.

She sat back so she was kneeling with her weight over her heels, and she let her head drop back and closed her eyes, gulping down big breaths of air, trying desperately to calm herself.

_You're not that lonely, terrified child anymore._

Her eyes snapped open, and in a heartbeat, she was on her feet with her blaster drawn. She had _felt_ it more than heard it, and her only instinct was to react as if somebody was intruding.

She turned one way, then the other, but she was alone.

Rey turned back toward the window. This world was exceptionally beautiful. She could see that even through the fog of tears.

She went to the bed, placing her blaster by the pillow. She wasn't on an island anymore. She didn't have to picture water all around her to let herself sleep. She didn't need imaginings any longer. She was just as safe as anyone could be in this galaxy.

She faced the window as she closed her eyes, and her very last thought before falling into slumber was that tomorrow, she'd wake to a sunrise reflecting over the water. And what a sight that would be.


	2. The Rogue Sentinel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finds herself in a solitary quandary.

Rey woke up warm, like a furnace had been placed under the sheets next to her. She could only assume that the sun was to blame, heating up her bedding to an almost unbearable degree.

She begrudgingly decided to get up, if only to close the window. She found her eyes glued shut, forcing her to rub the crust away to open them properly, and even that was an enormous effort. Her arms - no, her entire body - felt heavy, resisting her every move.

That didn't make sense. She had been fine when she had crawled into bed. 

Rey blinked, confused by the deeply red light flooding the room with hues of orange and brown with yellow slowly overtaking them all. It was nothing like she had ever seen, yet instinctively, she knew it was dawn all the same.

As if to confirm the time, her stomach growled, giving her the push she required to roll out of bed, despite the protests of her limbs. 

Once her feet were under her, she stretched up as she took in a long, deep breath, attempting to best her stiffness, but it wasn't enough. So she continued through the few other stretches that she knew, hoping the next one would unstick whatever muscle she had managed to injure without knowing. 

She felt better, certainly, but not entirely right. A second roaring growl of hunger changed her priorities, so she dressed hastily in a loose robe, tunic, and her arm wraps. She tucked her blaster into her belt as she walked out the door.

The downside to her private quarters was how far it was from everything else. She had to walk over fifteen minutes to the mess hall, which was nearly empty. She couldn't read the signs - the language of this planet seemed to have an alphabet of deceptively simple cubes and triangles, some with incredibly slight variations - so she followed her nose to the kitchens.

She had never seen so much food in her entire life. The few people who were there - natives of this planet, she presumed - encouraged her to take dish upon dish until she couldn't carry any more. She returned to the mess with plates of colorful fruits, creams, biscuits, and so many things she couldn't name.

Eating alone had never bothered Rey, but after months of sharing every meal and living in close quarters, it was unsettling to sit in this empty dining hall with its enormous, cavernous ceiling. She tried to pace herself, but everything tasted so good. 

She'd been living off rations for too long.

She wondered about what she might do with the rest of her day. Normally she would work on the _Falcon_. She had always loved mechanics; one of the few joys she had as a child was pulling things apart and figuring out how they operated, how they broke, and how to repair or improve them. It came easily to her, but there was always something else to solve, something new to learn. She could immerse her mind in the wiring or submerge her imagination in the circuitry and forget herself - heartache and stomachache alike - even if only for a little while.

_Would I know that about myself if they hadn't abandoned me on Jakku?_

The thought appeared like a dreadnaught from light speed, obliterating her appetite. She numbly began to wrap the remainder of her meal in spare cloth. She could have it later.

She returned the emptied dishes to the kitchen, thanking everyone she saw before grabbing her bundle of food and starting the long walk back to her room.

She had thought that she had obtained some kind of closure the night previous. She could finally admit to herself that her parents weren't ever coming back, that they had never _planned_ to come back. It stung like a newly broken blister before the callous, but it wasn't the interminable ache that she expected it to be.

But it still hurt.

Didn't closure mean she could move on? Or at least that she could get through the day without thinking about it? Was she stuck asking questions that she can't answer?

Rey quickened her step. She always had a drive - no, a _need_ \- to understand things, to look past the form and see the function, but people didn't work like that. She learned that the hard way on Jakku, more than once, but the lesson never seemed to stick. 

_Knowing why they did it won't change anything._

She'd give anything to be able to turn on her heel and head off to the _Falcon_. There was always something to repair or upgrade, and it was exactly what she needed right now. But Chewie, Poe, Finn, and Rose were on a munitions run and wouldn't be back for days.

What had she been thinking when she agreed to come here instead? General Organa had mentioned time to center herself and clear her mind, but Rey never did those kinds of things. She didn't want relaxation, and she certainly didn't need it.

Maybe General Organa had more acuity with Jedi mind tricks than she let on.

As soon as she got back to her room, Rey riffled through her rucksack. She didn't have a ship to fix or a mission to complete, but there was no way to clear her head with still hands. 

And there was an entire world outside this building with not a spec of sand in sight.

Yes, a bit of exploration was just what she needed. She emptied her rucksack of anything she wouldn't require for the day before tucking her food bundle on top. She filled her canisters on the way out of her room, determined to break into a sweat as soon as possible.

* * *

It may have been wiser to inquire about the area before wandering off into it. She realized that when she was traversing a particularly unpleasant descent to the enormous lake she could see from her room.

She cursed herself the entire way down, but she quickly forgot it when she arrived at the water's edge.

This could be the most beautiful place in the galaxy. 

Rey found a place to eat while watching some kind of aquatic creatures darting through the water without a ripple to betray them. 

She hadn't realized how long she'd been there until she noticed she had eaten everything she'd brought with her. 

_Maybe this whole centering thing isn't so bad._

She could feel it here, the Force. She didn't have to concentrate or focus. It was right on the surface, like the air in her lungs or the sweat on her brow.

She was at a loss for how she managed to stay by the lake until the sun began to go down.

She began her ascent at a rapid pace, not wanting to get caught out here at night with only her handheld torch for light, but her progress slowed to a crawl when she hit a steep part of the mountain. She hadn't passed it on her way down, which was concerning. She had been so certain that she had followed the same ridge.

And it was getting dark. Fast.

Too fast.

She grit her teeth and pushed ahead. She had survived worse than a late night hike. There was nothing to worry about.

Yet, something in the back of her mind wouldn't stop worrying.

She made it to the halfway point just as twilight fell. She could've pushed on, had she not reached a sheer cliff edge. 

She must've gone clear around to the other side of the mountain, along the fortified edge. How did she manage that?

Without rope, she had to walk along the mercifully flat passage that, with any luck, would put her back on the right path. She strapped her torch to the exterior of her rucksack to keep her hands free, but she had to adjust her pace to match her limited line of sight.

A profound loneliness struck her without warning. In the last five months, she had found friends and a new family in the Resistance. She wasn't just some scavenger in the desert anymore. She was the last Jedi, the new hope of the Resistance. It seemed everybody knew her name. 

But she hadn't been this alone in her entire life.

Apart from General Organa, nobody she knew had any understanding of the Force.

_Not nobody._

The very last thing she needed when stuck on an unforgiving mountain in the dark was to start thinking about _him_. She reached out, following the Force along the hard line of rocks before her, trying to distract herself from the one avenue of thought she loathed even more than that of her parents.

Rey's foot abruptly jerked in one direction, a loose rock sliding out from under her. She fought for balance with her bo staff but ultimately lost, tumbling over the edge. 

She scrambled to draw upon the Force, but she wasn't certain how to direct it to soften her fall. She gracelessly crashed into a boulder before she caught herself. 

Most of her injuries were minor scraps, but her ankle throbbed and burned.

_No, this centering thing is rubbish._

She leaned against the boulder to keep her weight of her bad leg while she scanned her surroundings with her torch. She needed to regroup. She wasn't going to get anywhere until she could at least bind her ankle. 

There was a shallow cave ahead. It would provide enough cover to build a fire without hiding it from anyone who might go looking for her. She would check out her ankle and rest while she figured out her next move.

One thing was clear: no matter what else she did tonight, she would _not_ be thinking about Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These first two chapters were Rey-centric, but the next chapter will start opening the narrative. I hope you've enjoyed it so far!


	3. The Precipice Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren takes on his new mantle of Supreme Leader.

Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren and Supreme Leader of the First Order, was _bored_.

For all the power at his disposal, he had very little to do. The First Order was a fabulous machine in that respect: an order to everything and everything in order. His days were filled with an endless supply of reports, and, as of late, dull reports.

His first few weeks as Supreme Leader had been turbulent, as with any change in power. No one dared to question his account of the previous Supreme Leader's demise, not even Hux, but the leadership was hesitant. An example had to be made to ensure their loyalties. His only regret was that it hadn't been Hux that stepped out of line. He'd love nothing more than to be rid of that man. 

Unfortunately, it had been Colonel Drayson who raised his blaster in an incredibly poor attempt at assassination.

Since the swift and ugly demise of the turncoat colonel, everything had fallen back into place. The Resistance went completely silent. There had been no sightings, no skirmishes, no whispers of a tide of recruitment. For all intents and purposes, the Resistance was dead.

For now, anyway.

As both _The Supremacy_ and _Dreadnaught Alpha_ were destroyed, he had taken _The Finalizer_ as First Order Prime, and it had been outfitted with a new Throne Room befitting the Supreme Leader.

And now, Kylo Ren sat, receiving news and rendering commands about matters that meant nothing to him: refilling the ranks, maintaining the supply lines, rebuilding the fleet. The First Order had the reach and authority he required, but only so long as it had troops, ships, and munitions to maintain its hold over the major systems.

Four standard weeks ago, there were reports of raids on one of the smaller shipping lines. Suspecting the Resistance, he led a strike force to eliminate the threat, only to discover that the perpetrators were a band of pirates with far too high an opinion of themselves. 

And since then, there had been nothing, no incident of note in the entire galaxy. Not one sighting of Rey or any known Resistance member. Some would see that as a victory, but he knew too much about the rebels to be that foolish. If there weren't any sightings, it was because someone - a planet, a system, or a group - was harboring them, which was no small feat.

No, the Resistance wasn't dead. It had gained an ally powerful enough to hide them, and whoever was responsible held enough sway to prevent everyone within their orbit from running to the First Order for an incredibly rich reward.

Kylo descended from his seat of power and retired to his chambers. Like every night, he reminded himself that he needed to be patient. His plans required time, and no matter how tedious, he would bring them to fruition.

But his patience was a fragile thing, and his determination frayed in the face of unceasing tedium. He felt his mind and body gradually giving way, atrophying with disuse, all because of his new status. Never before had he waited in the shadows like this, guarded in every corner at every second of the day. 

It didn't inspire feelings of security or power in Kylo; instead, he felt caged, just as he had at Skywalker's training temple. Despite all the assurances that it was for his own good, so he could become a Jedi warrior, he knew the real reason he was sent there. He _felt_ it, deep in his bones. All the people in his life who claimed to love him saw his untapped potential and feared it - feared _him_ , so they sent him away to a prison strong enough to hold him. Or so they thought.

_"You aren't that scared child anymore."_

He bristled at the memory. The words were familiar, but not his. He could only assume it was some kind of aftertaste from the Force Bond - a remnant of Rey lingering in the back of his mind.

He grimaced. He had spent the last few months ignoring Snoke's final manipulation. He didn't want to believe that his former master had somehow forged the connection between him and his light counterpart. In fact, when Snoke claimed responsibility for it, Kylo assumed it was a lie, a way to taunt Rey and torture all the hope out of her. His former Master had been powerful, certainly, but even he had limitations. Linking minds required physical proximity, and Snoke hadn't been anywhere near Rey before the bond formed.

On Crait, after Skywalker vanished and his troops invaded the caverns, Kylo had felt the bond and saw her again, clearer than ever before. He had felt a thrill of hope, even after the connection closed. Had Snoke truly been responsible for their bond, it would've died with him. The fact that it persisted proved that it wasn't just another lie, that it was the Force at work.

_A foolish notion._

He hadn't seen or felt anything from the bond since that day on Crait. When he reached out during meditation, seeking any sign or sensation that it was there, all he felt was silence and stillness. 

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

A surge of rage flared inside of Kylo. The Force had shown him two things - truths, he assumed at the time - when he and Rey had touched hands. 

The first was the past: two people selling a girl for a paltry sum. He could tell that it was Rey, old enough to remember and close enough to hear everything. She had always known the truth.

The second was the future: a flurry of chaos, the flash of lightsabers, a rush of energy, images of victory through carnage. And in the center of it all, there was a single, unifying feature: Rey was at his side.

He had been so certain that the Force was binding them that he saw that future as a _promise_ : he wouldn't be alone. Rey would stand with him.

But that hadn't happened. He had killed Snoke because he believed that the future he'd seen - the one where he wasn't alone because she was at his side - was such a certainty.

Then there had been that beautiful fight against the Elite Praetorian Guard. The fury of the battle, the passion... the connection between them amplifying their abilities. He was certain Rey felt it too. She _must_ have felt it, too. Kylo was no stranger to power, but he had never experienced the Force surge so fiercely as when they fought together.

But then she refused his invitation and abandoned him. 

_It was foolish to believe that anything else could've happened. Stupid to believe that she would even consider staying._

And now, Snoke was dead, and Rey was gone. It felt as if the Force had lied to him.

He marched into his training room while hastily stripping his attire until he was in nothing but his trousers. Normally he would lash out with his lightsaber, soothe himself by destruction, but lately, it had been far more effective to channel his rage through kata. So he went through the forms and poured his frustration and fury into each action, the Force rippling around him. He might be alone, but his powers were expanding like never before. 

He spent hours pushing himself until he was utterly exhausted. He stumbled back to his bedroom, ready to collapse into the sheets, but he came to a full stop in the doorway instead, gawking at the sight before him.

Rey was stretched out across his sheets, sweating profusely and shaking.


	4. The Revelation Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo deals with his latest revelation, and Rey struggles with an alarmingly high fever.

Kylo Ren despised surprises. They indicated vulnerabilities: poor planning, failed strategy, blind spots, and so on. Yet he couldn't help but be pleased over his current situation. Despite the months he'd spent fuming over Rey's rejection, seeing her again inspired something akin to join.

He attributed the wayward feeling to smugness. She had abandoned him, and whatever misadventures she had pursued in the meantime had clearly left her worse for the wear. It was as if the universe was reassuring him that it had been her mistake that squandered the beautiful future they could have shared.

He dismissed that train of thought for the more pressing matter at hand: Rey was, quite inexplicably, here.

_The Force Bond._

His mouth went dry with trepidation. He was furious and curious, hopeful and suspicious. He knew better than to trust anyone or anything, least of all when he was getting anything he might want.

Kylo bit his tongue. It jarred him out of his head and into the moment. It was a crude method, but he had no need for grace. Only control. 

_She hasn't noticed yet._

It had been several seconds since he discovered her in his bed, ample time for her to realize that the Bond had opened. That wasn't like her. 

That was when he noticed that Rey was sweating and shivering. Her eyes were closed, her lids fluttering at an unnatural speed.

Kylo dismissed the possibility that this was an elaborate ruse when a wave of disorientation echoed in the back of his mind, her experience leaking through the Bond. She was in the throes of a horrible fever, and there was no sign of medical intervention.

Didn't the Resistance take care of its assets? She should be in a medbay under cooling blankets with a swarm of medics monitoring her vitals. Yet there didn't seem to be so much as a meddroid to tend to her.

_She looks like she's dying._

No, that was unacceptable. Rey wasn't allowed to die. Not like this.

His decision made, he closed in on her and said, "Rey?"

She flinched at the sound of his voice, but her eyes remained closed.

"Rey?" he repeated. "Can you hear me?"

"You're not here," she replied. "You can't be."

"I could say the same for you."

Her eyes snapped open. They were red, slightly swollen, and brimming with anger. She radiated fury. 

"Not dressed," she grunted, turning away.

"You don't look well," he said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

When she didn't reply, he took the liberty of a quick visual exam, following a phantom ache down to her right ankle. It had swollen to nearly twice its size and had a long, inflamed gash across one size that was oozing a blackish green substance.

_Why hasn't she treated it?_

"Tell me what happened," he said.

* * *

Rey vaguely recalled her fall and her slow but sure limp to the nearest cover, but thereafter, things became murky.

Presently, she was inside a shallow cave with a fire burning at the entrance. She couldn't remember starting it, but she must have because she was alone.

_Not alone enough._

Rey wasn't a fool. She recognized the symptoms her too-high fever, though she wasn't certain when it had started. She'd experienced one before when she contracted interstellar flu. She had spent a full standard week in her AT-AT, barely able to move. The fever had been mild until the last night, when it spiked and refused to drop.

She had seen and heard things that night that haunted her for years after: her faceless parents reassuring her, only to turn on their heels and leave without a word; Unkar Plutt finding her and laughing at her; other scavengers - no doubt informed by Plutt about her condition - breaking in and stealing what little she had; everyone leaving her for dead; being swallowed by the desert sands, never to be missed or mourned.

Comparatively, hallucinating a half-naked Kylo Ren was quite tame. That didn't make the situation any more palatable.

"Your ankle," he insisted for the umpteenth time.

"Go away, Kylo," she spat.

"Tell me."

Rey remembered inspecting her leg when she first took shelter. In fact, that was the last semi-clear memory at her disposal. 

"Twisted it," she replied. 

"You cut it with something poisonous."

Rey's last encounter with Kylo left a very bitter taste in her mouth, the kind that clings to the tongue and fouls every bite for days after. The Force had shown her a future that she desperately wanted. She had allowed herself to want it, to hope again.

"You poisoned it all," she snapped at him, unable to keep her thoughts behind pressed lips. "Everything. All of it."

"You rejected my offer," he said, the calm in his voice more threatening than his anger. "You left me to burn."

In lieu of laughter, Rey unleashed a hissing cough.

"I did," she replied. "Healed your head wound. Returned your saber. Left you to burn. Sounds like me."

She closed her eyes as silence greeted her words. She shouldn't be wasting energy arguing with her fever-induced hallucination. She needed to break her fever or at least reduce her temperature.

She grabbed her pack and upturned it, emptying the contents. She selected a spare towel and one of her spare canteens. As she dipped the cloth in water, a handful of the odd fruits she'd wrapped up earlier that day fell out. She pressed the cool cloth to her head with one hand and gathered the spilled contents with the other until she could examine the lot in the palm of her hand.

"Dekroi berries," remarked the voice of Kylo Ren. 

"Why couldn't I hallucinate Leia or Finn?" she muttered.

She proceeded to eat the berries, inelegantly slurping them out of her hand. Their flavor was a strange combination of tangy, savory, and sour, oddly refreshing in its own right. She wasn't sure that she liked it, but she also didn't really care.

She was licking the last of its juices from her hand when a searing pain shot up her right leg, causing her back to spasm. She screamed as the pain continued up to her neck, expanding like the roots of a weed, splintering her into a hundred pieces.

Then everything went black.


End file.
